Runaway Home
Runaway Home and Runaway Home/Ginger are interchangeable, it doesn't matter which one you read first. But please read at least one of those before you read: Runaway Home/Home at Last Thank you Prologue I've never run away. And yet, I'm always running. But it's never my choice to run away from home, that's always Maman's decision. If it were up to me, I'd stay put. But no one likes my Maman. And she knows it. She's always prepared to leave, even when we first get there. Because she knows as well as I do that no one likes her and we are nomads, and gypsies. I hate this life. But she keeps me with her, because she says I'm all she has and tries to guilt me into staying with her. I know all her tactics. She has a lot, but because we've moved so much, I have heard them all. Finally, we wound up at a small village practically in the middle of nowhere. Nothing seemed to stand out about this village, and I noticed right away Maman only unpacked the essentials, and then turned to me, lashing her tongue like a sword, telling me all the ways I've failed. Nothing new, this was going to be just like all the other times. But I knew, somewhere deep in my heart, that this time was different. We had run away yet again. But this time we had run away home. Chapter one I entered the small house that my mother had chosen for us to live in. Already she was grumbling about how it was only one story, and how when she lived in the palace things were different and how it was all my father's fault things changed. Blah-blah-blah. Nothing about that involved me, but I knew enough from past experiences, that things were leading up to her yelling at me things I had no defense for. So I tried to make myself scarce... "Armand!" No such luck. "Oui Maman?" I asked hesitantly. "This is your fault you know! People find out about your foot and then they want us gone! Even just one person with such a shameful appendage as that in their town will tarnish the image of their village!" This wasn't anything new. She often attacked me for my foot which she said is shameful, but just because I was used to it, didn't mean that it hurt any less. "I...I...I wish you would just go and die! Just die and leave me in peace without a constant reminder of how much of a failure both you and your father are!" She hollered. I blinked, taking a few hobbled steps backwards. This was new. And I didn't like it. She often told me how much I failed, and usually blamed it on Papa, but never has she told me she wished I was dead. To my shame, I felt tears well up. Oh no, tears were not good, that would just make her madder. She cackled at my expression. "You are a pathetic waste of space who should just die and the world would be a better place. I never wanted to have you, it was all your father's idea. And then to just die like that and leave me with you? I wish you would have died along with him." I looked down at the floor, nodded a little in response to my mother, before running/limping as fast as I could to my room. When I got there, I shut the door, and slid down it. With shaking hands, I removed my boots, getting a good look at the bane of my existence. A curled up foot with the toes pointed upwards. It's very ugly and I hated it. I still do, to some extent, but not nearly as much as I hated it back then. I punched my bad foot, sending a shock of pain up my body. I cried more freely then, because of the pain, but also because of how miserable I was. And I knew I'd be stuck with her until I graduated. Chapter two I don't know when it occurred to me to run but at about two in the morning, I crawled out of bed, and just decided to do it. It was October after dark at that point. Had I actually being paying attention, I would have thought to put on a coat, my boots and grab the cane that my mother hates to see. But at that point I just wanted to get out of there. So that was how I wound up running away, (if you can even call it that) dressed in yellow and brown silk pajamas and barefoot. My bad foot rarely touched the ground, as I moved by limping. Even so, I managed to get pretty far away from our new house before the adrenaline faded and I realized I was freezing. Not only that, I stepped wrong, and ended up scraping up my already in pain bad foot pretty badly. I couldn't help it, I started to cry. At this point, all I wanted was to just die, maybe then I'd finally be free and happy. I yanked hard on my hair as fiery waves of pain shot up my body, to keep from crying out loud and waking someone up, that would just result in them being mad and maybe chasing us out of their village as soon as they could and this time it wouldn't even be Maman's fault! I yanked so hard some strands came off in my hand, and it was then I heard it. "no no tesoro, non farlo," It sounded musical, low and gentle, as two slim fingered, soft hands took my own, and removed them from my hair. I had no idea what they said, but it sounded soothing. To my great surprise, I felt them rub my hair and begin to sing something under their breath, in the same language I believe as their first words to me. The words and the motion was soothing enough I could feel my eyelids start to droop. Before I fell asleep, I mumbled a quiet "merci mon ange sur terre." I could have sworn their hands faltered in my hair briefly before continuing. Chapter three When I woke up, I wasn't exactly sure where I was. All I registered was something warm around me, and the faint smell of food, which made my stomach rumble. "You awake?" That voice. Though it now spoke words I understood, I knew it as the voice of the angel from last night right away. Either I was hallucinating, or they were really taking care of me. I forced my eyes open as a spoon touched my lips. There was a...a girl. A really good looking girl, with a spoon full of some lukewarm liquid as she held it out to me. "Eat." She instructed. I opened my mouth to question why she was doing this, but she shoved the spoon in. "Sorry it isn't that hot. Tried my best to keep it warm." She said, holding out a thermos. I tasted the liquid and was pleasantly surprised to find it was chicken soup. She busied herself with other things, as I got a good look around. She had pulled me, angels must be very strong, a fair distance away, onto a patch of only slightly damp dirt, had covered me with a nice, thick wool blanket that was a cheerful yellow, and...had bandaged my clubfoot?! I was actually struck dumb for a few seconds. Maman had told me respectable people wouldn't even look at my clubfoot, let alone touch it, but there it was. A white bandage, slightly stained pink from the blood, wrapped tightly, yet not too tightly, around my misfortune. She was still looking away, so she failed to see me fall back in total astonishment. "Why?" I breathed. "Why what?" She wondered. "Why take care...of someone like me?" My voice came in short gasps, and she held out a spoon, or a bottle of water to me. When I gestured vaguely towards the water, she opened it and pressed it to my lips. She acted like this was totally normal to her. "It's just...something I do." She answered vaguely, before changing the subject. "We should stay here for another day, before taking you home. Your pretty week." I would have groaned at the mention of home, but then I got a good look at her eyes. They were tan, for the most part, but I could see them flash quickly between blue and peach. I figured either I was just imagining it, or it was an angel thing or something. Chapter four Well, another day and night of pampering passed and she looked me in the eye, as if waiting for something. When I didn't answer, she smiled. "I need to know where you live." She reminded me. "So I can take you home." "Oh that's unnecessary, I can just head there myself." I babbled as I stood up. The moment my bad foot touched the ground and supported some of my weight, it buckled and I fell. She caught me. "How, you can't even walk." She scolded gently. "Then how will I get there?" I challenged. She just patted me on the shoulder. "I'm stronger than I look." And to prove it, she picked me up bridal style with hardly a show of effort. I found myself staring wide eyed into her face. "Now, where do you live." She asked again. My voice wasn't working very well, but I eventually remembered my new address, and carry me there she did. Never once did she falter, stumble, or put me down for a break. She looked like she could do this for hours, and she did. The walk from where we were to my mother's house was about three and a half hours, because she walked slowly as to not jostle me or trip. I said nothing the whole way and she didn't expect me to. But I couldn't help feeling sad that my moments of pampering were coming to an end. There was no way an angel would would appear to me again, especially not the same angel. When she got to my house, she put me down, kept one arm around me, and knocked. Maman answered the door, looking annoyed at being interrupted. "qu'Est-ce que c'est? Qui es-tu? Qu'est-ce que tu veux?" "Um...I brought your...son?" She said hesitantly, as I nodded. "You interrupted me for my son?! Witch girl!" And with that, Maman pulled me inside, and slammed the door.Category:Original Character Fanfiction Category:Cerisefan03's Fanfiction